


Healing Touch

by fw_feathers (mia826)



Series: Sterek drabbles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Deserves Nice Things, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Fluff Angst Hurt Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Self-Indulgent, and Stiles, like hugs, oops I tripped over angst, or Both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia826/pseuds/fw_feathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts out with Derek patching up a bit of Stiles and somehow ends with Stiles patching up a bit of him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired! Again! In the middle of my research paper! Don't worry, my research paper made it! (barely)
> 
> This is set between S2 and S3, in those months that Stiles and Derek got close enough for the friendly touching we see in Tattoo. They’re not there yet though, still in the awkward stage between “reluctant allies” and “I’m not sure, but I think we’re… friends??”
> 
> Setting’s in the Hale house because they were in the woods being chased and it was the nearest place, okay, shhh, just read
> 
> also yes I am a sucker for the originally-human!Cora headcanon SHHH
> 
> Inspiration [here](http://fleeting-white-feathers.tumblr.com/post/114744039760/artofobsession-why-do-you-even-have-a-first-aid). Unbeta'd.

 

“Humans have always been in my pack.”

Stiles stops short, the careful, pained stance of his body stiffening as the words register. Derek pulls back, brow furrowing as he takes in the shock on his face. “Stiles?”

“Humans?” Stiles repeats, wide brown eyes trained on his face. “There were humans in- in your pack?”

Derek lets his hands fall. His eyes narrow further, searching Stiles’ face, as if the answer to his strange reaction could be found there. “Yes,” he says. “Werewolf genes may be a dominant trait, but there are always exceptions, they’re not that uncommon…” He remembers Cora, and Beth, and Mark, their faces, their stubbornness, how much Stiles reminds him of them in his loyalty and determination to run with the pack, humanity and all. That inevitably leads to memories of the fire, and of Kate, and to the reason as to why Stiles is looking at him with open-mouthed horror. “You didn’t know.” He realizes, looking down at Stiles.

“No, I-” Stiles’ voice cracks, his voice still hoarse from running and screaming. “I don’t- did she know? Derek-”

Derek steps back, the memories erasing any gentleness that might have been on his face as he tended Stiles. “I don’t think she cared,” he says gruffly. He regrets bringing it up, regrets opening his mouth and answering his question and making conversation with a human boy who should be at home, uninjured,  _safe…_

His shoulders draw up, and he tenses, already stepping back. Stiles doesn’t let him. “Oh,  _Derek-”_

Stiles throws his arms around Derek, practically falling off the table in his haste. Derek’s retreat stutters to a halt, his arms automatically cradling Stiles before he injures himself  _again._  Then his brain halts too, because Stiles is  _embracing Derek._  Derek’s not sure which part of that sentence he should focus on, because Stiles is  _embracing_ Derek, and Stiles is embracing  _Derek._   Derek, who got his family killed, drove his uncle to insanity, and failed to protect his Betas as their Alpha. Derek, who hasn't received a hug, not even a friendly touch, ever since Laura drove away from New York all those months ago. Derek, who doesn't deserve this from the kid he's almost gotten killed more than once.

Stiles is silent, blessedly so. Derek can hear every hitch of his breath, every heavy beat of his heart, but not a single word crosses his lips. Maybe because he knows that words are worthless when it comes to this.

Trust Stiles to make his first time seeing him speechless be because of his family. 

His grip tightens slightly at that last word.  _Family._  He lets his eyes fall shut, lets the pain, the guilt, the despair wash over him like a wave. He lets himself feel, just for that one moment. Then he takes the frozen shards and tucks them away once more, in that cracked space in his heart that will never be filled again.

Only then does he pull away, bracing Stiles and settling him back on the table again. Stiles’ eyes are suspiciously watery, but they looked like that while he lugged him through the forest, so Derek ignores it.

Stiles coughs, clearing his throat. Derek can see pink blotches on his skin, under and around the white gauze on his cheek. His heart is jumping like mad from embarrassment, and maybe something else. Derek ignores that too.

“So, um, in case I haven’t said it yet, I mean, who knows what I’ve said in the midst of my Pain and Terror Babbling, right? But, uh, thanks! For the patch up, and the rescuing, though maybe you could lay off the princess-bride carry next time? Not that I’m being ungrateful, mind-” Derek jerks back, dodging a particularly enthusiastic flail. Stiles blushes harder.

Derek sighs and jerks his head at the door, his own hands safe in his pockets once more. “Go home, Stiles.”

“Right. Okay.” Stiles slips off the table in a maneuver that would have brained anyone else. Derek’s wondering how the boy survives as it is. “But I meant it! You know. The thanks, I mean. And, uh, the, um, other stuff.” He takes one look at Derek’s face and almost trips on a loose floorboard. “Right! Leaving. Out. Bye!” He flees, the door slamming shut behind him. Derek waits until he hears the Jeep’s engine start, then fade, out of his hearing range.

He can still feel the ghost of Stiles’ arms around his neck as he moves to clean up the mess on the table. He ignores the way it soothes him, a tiny part of him, here in the middle of the ghosts of his past.

The memory of Laura’s smile fills his mind, until he shakes it away.


End file.
